Pictures of You
by respitechristopher
Summary: Written for "Iron Fic: Is This All Real?" in the Teachers' Lounge. Hermione visits Ron at the Burrow after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. Of that, Ron's certain.


**Pictures of You**

It was probably too warm to be sitting outdoors with a blanket over his legs, but Ron knew that the choices his mother would give him were this or lying in bed. He'd spent a week after the battle in the Hospital Wing, before Madame Pomfrey judged him ready to go home, to be tended to by his mother. He'd been home three days, and this day was the first that his mother agreed with him that it was time to get some fresh air. Ginny was also not allowed to fly, even though her ankle had healed just fine, but she was busy running poor Pigwidgeon into the ground sending messages back and forth with Dean Thomas.

The kitchen door swung open, and Hermione walked out into the garden, wearing a lavender sundress, sandals and a straw sunhat and sunglasses. She pulled a chair next to Ron, a footstool in front of the chair, and sat down. Ron strained to look anywhere but at her legs.

"What are you doing here?" asked Ron. "I didn't know you were coming by."

Hermione chuckled. "So that's how we're talking to our friends these days, Ron? I'm happy to see you, too."

"No, I didn't mean that, it's just –"

"Just having you on. Mum said it was silly for me to be cooped up in the house all day, so she suggested I come visit and see how you're getting on. So, how are you getting on?"

"Not bad," Ron replied. "Been a little odd – my dreams are really rather… real, I guess you could say. Last night I dreamt that you and Harry and I had to go save the Maiden from the Warlock with the Hairy Heart. It was like I was right there. We never imagined that the Warlock could be real, but I felt every bit of that battle – spells going overhead, all sickly looking colors, trying to dodge them. I was dead scared, Hermione. You were brilliant, though. Figured out the Warlock's weakness in the end – the heart needed to be broken, and the only way to do that was to lock it in ice with an aguamenti and a freezing spell – and you and I kept the bloody thing busy when Harry got himself into trouble trying to freeze the heart on his own. That speccy git nearly offs himself playing the hero in my dreams, too."

"So, did you kill the Warlock once Harry had finished?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, no. That was Harry, of course. Blasted the Warlock to bits, and carried the girl out of there with his wand in his teeth afterwards, and she gave him a big sloppy kiss at the end."

Hermione smiled. "Aw. Were you jealous, Ron?"

"Oh no, not at all. Right after that, you- er, well… I wasn't jealous, is all. Then I woke up. That's it, end of dream. Oh, and there was the one about Marvin the Muggle, too, but that didn't have you or Harry in it. Neville was travelling with Marvin and I, you see, and neither of us had any idea what a Foot Sea was, but it was rising quickly, so Marvin reckoned we should get to dry land."

"It's not Foot Sea, Ron, it's – oh, never mind. But other than that, you're well, then?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. Pomfrey had me all sorted even before I got home, but try telling mum that, right? What about you? That curse Dolohov hit you with looked pretty nasty."

"I'm not bad, all things considered," Hermione said. "Taking ten potions a day does do a number on the stomach, though. I've got them in a bag up in Ginny's room – heavier than my books, if you'd believe it. But if that's the worst that's happened after facing Dolohov, then I guess I can count myself lucky."

"Right," Ron answered, absentmindedly, and the two of them fell into an easy silence, enjoying the early summer sun. After a few minutes, Hermione began to shift in her chair uncomfortably, before getting up to take her midday potions and the nap that inevitably went with those potions. Ron smiled at her as she left, before closing his eyes for a kip of his own.

"Oh, there he is! Sleeping Beauty!" said Molly, as a very sunburned Ron walked into the kitchen. "Are you feeling better, then?" she asked. "I thought I'd – oh my. Get over here young man, and let me take a look at that sunburn you've got yourself. Come now, off with that shirt. Fair as you are, you'll be burnt to a crisp underneath there, too, no doubt."

Ron sighed, rolled his eyes and took off his shirt as requested, as Molly waved her wand around her son, removing the worst of the sunburn.

"There you are, then, right as rain. What did I tell you about going out there without the ointment?"

"Come on, mum, you know that stuff's all greasy. Is Hermione still upstairs? I wanted to see how she's doing."

"Come again, dear?" Molly asked. "Was Hermione supposed to visit this week? She's welcome, of course – we always love to have her – but I don't believe she was expected."

"Well, maybe she just popped over," Ron said. "She was out back in the garden with me right before I dozed off. Said she had to go up to Ginny's room to take her potions and then lie down. Maybe you just missed each other, is all."

Molly tilted her head quizzically. "I was here the whole time you were in the garden, dear. There was no one with you. Maybe you'd like to lie down again. I'll give you a dreamless sleep potion; that should work."

"But mum," Ron protested, "I just finished one nap; I don't need another one."

"Well then, if you're feeling that much better, perhaps you ought to be doing these dishes, and let me have a kip."

Ron huffed and rolled his eyes again. "All right. I'll take the potion."

Molly smiled. "That's my boy. Up you go!"

Three days later, Ron was feeling mostly better. The scars on the sides of his head were fading fast, he wasn't forgetting where he'd laid his wand or his teacup thirty seconds earlier, and by then he only needed one nap during the day. The scent of bacon wafting through the air had called him to breakfast, and fighting off the arms of his brothers and sister, he was able to secure himself a few pieces.

"You're going to need to tidy up your room, Ginny, and change the sheets on the spare bed. Hermione's coming by today – she's going to spend a few weeks with us this summer."

"I thought she wasn't coming until next week, Mum," Ron asked.

"She sent an owl saying that her parents thought it good if she got out of the house and got some fresh air, so she'll be here a few days early, if that's alright with you, Ron," Molly replied with a smirk. Ron nodded and got back to more important things, like the plate of food in front of him.

Hermione was dressed a bit more casually when she arrived than she had been in his dream, but Ron nonetheless found himself staring at her neck a bit more often than he felt comfortable doing, as Hermione had her hair tied back. He helped her with her things, bringing them to Ginny's room.

"You're looking well," she said, as they were walking up to Ron's room.

"Not feeling too bad," he agreed. "Just a bit tired now and again. And the dreams are just much too vivid, y'know? I'll be asleep, doing something in a dream, and totally not know whether it was really happening, or whether I was dreaming. Like a couple of days ago, I'm lying outside, fast asleep, getting sunburnt all to hell, and next thing I know, you walk outside, wearing a dress like you planned for the warm weather, and we're just having this conversation, like. You went upstairs to take your potions, and I woke up a bit later, and Mum told me you weren't there. Odd, don't you think?"

Hermione looked at him, a bit puzzled. "Where was Harry in this?" she asked.

"He wasn't there. Didn't even come up, actually, except when I was telling you about this dream I'd had. Just you and me, having a conversation, kind of like now. Wait. You're real, right?" Ron said, with a grin. "You're not a dream this time, too, are you?"

"Don't you think I'd be showing a bit more leg if this were a dream, Ron?" Hermione asked, smirking.

Ron laughed. "Not fair, Hermione. 'Snot my fault what happens in my dreams. Anyway, so how's your recovery? Still on those potions?"

"Oh Merlin, yes. Down to eight a day though, blessedly. Drives Mum spare that she doesn't know what's in them, but even when I tell her, her eyes start to glaze over. But as long as Madame Pomfrey was the one to prescribe them for me, Mum's okay with that. Dad, of course, gave up trying years ago. I'm pretty sure he's still hoping to wake up from a particularly vivid dream himself, and find me still in primary school."

"Let's just hope that doesn't happen, then," Ron said. "I'd hate to be a casualty of your father's morning alarm."

The two of them talked about school for a bit, gossiping about their fellow Gryffindors (except for Dean Thomas, who Ron said was off-limits to that conversation). They talked about summer reading lists (of which Hermione had already got through half) and gossiped about professors. Hermione left to go unpack her things, and Ron took that opportunity to lie down for a moment before supper.

Ron was a little nervous after waking up, but seeing Hermione at the supper table put his mind at ease, even though he reckoned she'd changed her shirt after getting settled. Ron concentrated on his food while Hermione and Ginny continued a conversation they must have been having upstairs about Dean Thomas.

"Are you alright, Ron?" Hermione asked, as she'd noticed Ron wasn't looking for a second helping. "You seem a bit off tonight."

"I'm fine," he replied. "Just still a bit tired is all. And those brains seem to have done a number on my appetite, too."

Hermione looked at her friend sadly, and grabbed his hand across the table. "You'll be back to normal before you know it," she said. "And if not, well, then I guess Hogwarts will have to start laying off house elves in the kitchens."

Ron squeezed her hand and smiled, which caused Ginny to pantomime gagging.

"Right. You go on for hours, mooning over Dean bloody Thomas, and I can't smile at a friend of mine who's just tried to make me feel better?" Ron said, earning him a swat across the back of his head from Molly's kitchen towel.

"Sorry, Mum."

"Just mind your language, dear," she said. "Now, how about the three of you go into the sitting room so I can clear up here. I believe Hermione brought over some of her Muggle board games for you to try."

Scrabble was a non-starter for the three of them, as there was no Wizarding dictionary to refer to when there were questions about how many Ms were in Glumbumble. Similarly, Ginny and Ron absolutely refused to believe that Telekinesis was a word at all, especially when Hermione gave them its meaning. Risk was found to be a much better choice; even more so when Ron began to get the hang of it, and started to corner Hermione and Ginny into southern Africa, leaving them unable to fight him on two fronts. They managed to get a game and a half in before the three injured young battle veterans decided to call it a night.

About half an hour after he went to bed, Ron heard a tapping on his bedroom door. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he got up and opened the door, only to see Hermione standing on the other side, in a housecoat, pajamas and slippers. He smiled, let her in, and grabbed his t-shirt up off the floor before lighting the candle by his bedside.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

"No. I mean, yes, I – It's complicated."

"Try me," Ron said.

"It's just that – were you really dreaming about me, Ron? I mean, that's something, isn't it? One doesn't ordinarily dream about people one doesn't have a connection to, and, well –"

"Well what?"

"Is that it? I mean, is there a connection there between us? You didn't dream about Harry that way, except when he was slaying monsters and such. But, I mean I've always hoped there was, but-"

"But what?" Ron asked, cutting her off.

"Oh, hell," Hermione swore, before grabbing Ron's face and kissing him deeply.

Ron's eyes grew wide for a brief second, before he realized what was going on. After that, his lips were curling upward into a smile so broad; he found it hard to keep kissing Hermione. Five minutes later he'd begun to get the hang of it, however.

"Oh. Oh dear," Hermione said, after gently breaking away from the kiss. "I don't suppose I really gave you a chance to answer, did I? I mean, certainly you have your eye on someone, and it's not as though you need to –"

Ron grabbed her hands and looked intently into her eyes. "Hermione, I've wanted to do that for so long. You're brilliant. Beautiful, smart – so amazingly smart. And I know I moan about you going on about schoolwork and revising and all, but you do that because you really care about us – about me. If I'm honest, I couldn't imagine anyone I'd rather be kissing in the middle of the night than you."

Hermione smiled broadly, and the two of them leaned into each other to kiss again; Ron's hands becoming entangled in Hermione's brown locks, and her own hands caressing his face gently as they did so.

"I should probably get back to Ginny's room," Hermione said, breathlessly. "This could move a lot faster than either of us are probably ready for."

Wisely, Ron didn't answer that except for a nod and a smile. They kissed each other several times more before finally saying goodnight, and Hermione bounced out of Ron's room, closing the door quietly as she left, Ron watching her the entire way.

"You're in good spirits this morning, Ron," Molly said, as Ron fairly floated downstairs to breakfast; the same goofy grin still plastered on his face from the night before.

'Just a good night's sleep, Mum," he replied, serving himself a bowl of oatmeal from the pot on the stove.

"Well, I hope your appetite's caught up with your sleep, then," Molly said, grabbing two more dishes from the cupboard. "You'll need your strength to recover the rest of the way, you know."

Hermione and Ginny followed shortly, and Ron gave Hermione a broad smile, which she returned before sitting down and tucking into her own breakfast. They talked about plans for the day; Ron managed to convince Molly that it was about time he got back up on a broom, and the subject of chores was even brought up with only a minimal amount of grumbling. Molly sent Ron and Hermione up to their rooms to take their morning potions, while Ginny got started on the gnomes in the garden.

"I really enjoyed that last night, Hermione," Ron said as they got to the landing outside Ginny's room.

"Oh, I'm so glad," Hermione replied. "I was worried that –"

Ron cut her off by kissing her deeply, nearly identically to how he remembered her kissing him the night before. But rather than return the kiss, Hermione gasped, slapped him, and dashed inside Ginny's room, sobbing, closing the door loudly behind her. Ron stood outside that door for several minutes; his mouth open, holding the place where Hermione had hit him, looking for a way to explain. Then, slowly, he climbed up the stairs to his own room.


End file.
